


restless soul, lie down

by skyekingsleigh



Series: someday (however long it takes) [4]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25669354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyekingsleigh/pseuds/skyekingsleigh
Summary: When Caroline says his name, it’s with a hardened edge that makes him wince, and he sighs as he presses against the cool tile. There’s no helping him now. He tries to think of what to say, tries to string words that would cover the eventual hurt and the implication of his words, but in the end he settles for the simple truth: “I think I’m dying, love.”
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Series: someday (however long it takes) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735117
Comments: 17
Kudos: 64





	restless soul, lie down

**Author's Note:**

> this was...such a bitch to write. i've been having a block for the longest time and tried writing this and it took me way longer than usual. in the end i managed to finish it, but i have to admit i'm still not proud of the final product. the second half is probably my favorite because it's when i really started to feel what i was writing. title from blood by the middle east.

He hears more than feels every crunch as his bones try to heal with each confident step, daughter in tow, unscathed save for the few already nonexistent cuts on her face and the mud lining her hairline. Klaus doesn’t bother saying anything, merely gesturing at Hope to get inside his SUV before driving to the airport. He’s fairly certain Caroline would want to see for herself that the girl is unharmed, even though everyone knew Klaus would turn the world upside down just to keep his daughter safe. Mentally, he prepares for the long lecture he’s about to get from his fierce blonde, something about temporary incapacitating and not leaving behind dead bodies in his wake. He finds when it’s near twenty years hearing the same thing, one tends to get used to it, anticipate it even.

He looks no better, long sleeved shirt askew with a gaping, burnt hole in the chest and muddied trousers. If he closes his eyes, he could still feel the impact of the spell the witch that decided to kidnap Hope blasted upon him, strong enough to slam him against the spiky, stoned walls of the dark cave and leaving him breathless. Of course, it only took mere seconds before he’s back on his feet, flashing around the dark with the sound of neck snapping and bodies thudding to the ground the only hint as to what he’s doing. Without the coven of witches spelling her down, Hope manages to free herself from the vervain ropes around her body, not even flinching as she side steps the corpses scattered on the ground when she approaches him. Klaus could barely contain his proud grin, and Hope rolls her eyes in such a fashion she could only get from Caroline. He only grins wider.

Hope chuckles the second their private jet takes off, destination set to Florence where he and Caroline are settling for the decade, “Caroline’s going to be pissed.”

-

It starts as a light tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers and toes. It doesn’t tickle as much as it pricks, and it would have bothered him greatly had Caroline not pulled him closer, lithe fingers clutching at the thin fabric of his Henley to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. It had been merely three days since he returned from his trip to Colorado where he rescued Hope from a coven of witches that hoped it possible to go against him and harm his daughter, but it usually took Caroline a few weeks to assure herself of his safety.

Hope had been right in her assumption of the blonde’s distaste when they returned, of course, but it’s nothing a long night of making up to cannot satiate. His daughter stayed until the next day to humor Caroline and then she’s off to her next destination with a promise of giving them updates every other day or so.

“I’m still pissed about that shirt,” Caroline mumbles against his chest, grip tightening only to accentuate her point before relaxing again.

He rumbles an acknowledgement, lets his hands drift lower until they’re holding her perky bottom in a tight grip that leaves her gasping. “Let me make it up to you. Again.”

She’s more than happy to oblige.

It’s after, though, when they’re both pressing against each other with their naked skins wet with sweat and blood, when he feels every pant of breath that leaves Caroline’s bruised lips against his neck, when the air is thick with the smell of their combined release, that he feels a tug of panic at the bottom of his gut.

He feels winded, tired.

That’s never happened before.

-

He no longer is a slave to the pull of the moon, but his wolf still presses insistently underneath his skin on full moons, demanding to be let out. He doesn’t indulge it often, especially in the last twenty years when the risk of hurting Caroline is higher than ever, but sometimes it does get difficult to ignore. He becomes moody and cranky more than usual, his control the slightest bit compromised, and his hunger tenfold. Having known this, he and Caroline had developed a bit of a routine every time of the month, usually secluding themselves to one of his more spacious properties for the week to get all the tension out. Sometimes he satiates the pull with sex, working out, running, hunting, anything to get his blood going, so it doesn’t surprise more than appease him when Caroline wakes him in her sports bra, cycling shorts and running shoes.

“We’re running today,” she tells him before tossing his athletic clothes on the bed, missing his head by an inch. “God knows we’ve had enough sex and it’s clearly not working.”

Klaus lets a slow grin form on his face at her words. “Sex always more than works, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, no.” Caroline snorts, crossing her arms over her chest. It does nothing to lessen his hunger for her with the way it pushes up her breasts and makes them more defined, but he has a feeling that’s her very intention. “You almost drained me last night. We’re running.”

He winces at the reminder and gives a small nod. It rarely happens, him losing control like that, and he hates it more and more every time it does. Caroline gives him a bright smile for his agreement, though, and it’s enough to make him return one as well. She’s right, anyway: he does need to let out more steam.

It’s with a startled heave of breath that Klaus finally admits something is wrong.

He is a thousand years old. He’s conquered cities, bathed them in blood, ripped a hundred hearts from chests within minutes, and toured Europe on foot without releasing a breath. He’s only ran the forest lining his estate twice and he’s panting.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Caroline frowns, looking at him with bright, concerned eyes. Even she looks less tired than he is, and she notices it, too, but she fails to take note of his flinch at the sound of her voice. He doesn’t know what to make of it, only that no one has managed to sneak up on him since the day Esther had bound his wolf while his father and brothers held him down. “I don’t say anything when we have sex because you’re you and you’re, like, the king of dramatics. But this? You’re panting like a freaking dog, Klaus. What’s wrong?”

Klaus tries to listen to her voice, but his thoughts are louder, more demanding: he didn’t hear her coming.

I don’t know, he wants to say to her, wants to pull her to him to placate his unnecessary fear and paranoia. He wants to tell her that he feels unusually tired the way he never did before, wants to tell her that no matter how hard he strains his ears he cannot for the life of him hear the sounds of the next village when he had spent so many nights teasing Caroline about the locals’ unusual conversations.

He wants to tell her about the tingling, how it spread from his toes and fingertips towards the center of his chest where that bloody witch struck him with her unknown spell, and he knows it’s connected–knows it in his gut, down to the marrow of his bones. Instead he releases a shaky breath, takes Caroline’s hand in his and squeezes in what he hopes would be taken as reassurance. “It’s the full moon. Sometimes the pull is stronger than usual.”

She doesn’t completely believe him, his Caroline, but she doesn’t reject his words, either. There’s something to be said about the way his wolf practically trembles when she smiles at him and turns around to run back to their house, the way it almost takes over him just to beg her not to believe his words, to seek her arms and tell her that something indeed is wrong. But Klaus is nothing if not a master of his own monster, and he tames the wolf enough to get the man to smile back.

-

Caroline wraps herself around him tighter that night, unaware of the truth yet somehow still knowing that he needs to feel her as much as she needs to assure herself that everything is okay. When Klaus wakes, he forces down his panic at her absence.

He cannot hear her–and, with a startling realization, he finds that he cannot smell her on their sheets as well.

-

It’s a few nights later that he sleeps deeply enough to dream. When he does, he dreams of this:

He is in Mystic Falls, but not Caroline’s Mystic Falls–no, it’s his, back when he was but a frail human afraid of his own father’s shadow with a witch for a mother. He is in what used to be their house, and when he glances down his hands are small and dirtied like a toddler’s. There’s a makeshift crib on the side, and it’s almost instinct to move closer when he hears the distinct sound of a soft whimper. He chances a look.

The baby sleeping there looked no more than a year old, soft blonde curls sitting atop a small head. Klaus mistakenly puts a hand on the crib and it rocks at the added weight, causing the babe to open her eyes. Blue, like sapphires glinting in the sun. Rebekah.

“Niklaus, I told you not to wake your sister,” his mother appears by the door with a disapproving frown on her young face, and she grips his right hand hard enough to hurt as she pulls him outside. Before they could reach the door, though, his mother suddenly lets go of him with wide, horrified eyes. He followed her gaze to where his hand is hanging to his side, and he could swear he saw it glow bright red.

-

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is up?” Caroline asks him one day when they’re walking around the gardens, hands clasped together tightly. Her voice is soft, uncertain, and Klaus knows there is fear taking root in her veins, and a little bit of hurt, too. They had been together for the past twenty years, but it didn’t come with ease.

He’d spent the decade before that silently keeping an eye on her, burying his pride at the way she took over the world one continent at a time. He had known ever since he met her that Caroline is meant for great things, meant to discover the world and all its genuine beauties, but to see it happen before him, see her grow more comfortable in her own monster’s skin with every new language she learned or every foreign soil she stepped foot on–it had been addicting. Soon, the sporadic text messages and occasional e-mails and post cards weren’t enough, and when one of his associates told him of her arrival in Rome of all places, he followed.

She wasn’t exactly happy with him about it, either, but it only took another year before she had finally given in to her baser desires and feelings. It took longer for her to trust him completely, and longer still for him to do the same.

He knows it’s why it hurts her to think he’s hiding something now–but what exactly could he say to her when even he himself do not know? He wakes up cold and pale, his senses are failing him, but what does that exactly entail? He has a clue, of course; he always does, but is that enough to tell her what would eventually break her?

“I wish I could tell you, love,” he says with a sigh. Caroline tenses up beside him, tries to pull her hand away but even in his weaker state, he’s still stronger than her and he doesn’t let go. “I will need to call a few acquaintances, confirm what I suspect before I do. But I will tell you, Caroline. Once I’m sure.”

She frowns at him, then, and stops walking altogether. “Sure of what?”

“Soon, love.” He raises her hand to press a kiss against the knuckles. Caroline tries to protest, but he pulls her close to claim her lips and tells himself it’s to distract her and not so he can satiate the sudden need to memorize her taste, the way she feels against him, everything–he tells himself that it’s not because somewhere inside, he feels a looming sense like he’s running out of time.

When they make love that night, it’s with an intense passion that they both haven’t experienced before, claiming each other, taking, taking, taking, chasing something they can’t reach. When they finish, Caroline pulls him up to his feet and tugs him to their bathroom to wash off, and it’s only when the hot spray of water hits the skin of his back that he feels the sting.

“What…” Caroline trails off, spinning him around to trace the harsh red bloodied lines down his back where her nails did their usual damage in bed.

He didn’t heal.

“Klaus.”

When Caroline says his name, it’s with a hardened edge that makes him wince, and he sighs as he presses against the cool tile. There’s no helping him now. He tries to think of what to say, tries to string words that would cover the eventual hurt and the implication of his words, but in the end he settles for the simple truth: “I think I’m dying, love.”

Caroline steps back like she’s been shot, chest heaving as if she still needs oxygen to breathe. Already she looks wrecked, and already Klaus wishes he could say anything to make her feel just the tiniest bit better. “But that can’t happen. That’s impossible, Klaus, you’re–you.”

There’s a hysteria to her voice that he hasn’t heard before, even when he was the monster terrorizing her town and friends, even when she called to tell him Bonnie had passed, even when her own daughter, Lizzie, succumbed to rest due to an accident and in her grief Caroline had killed the drunk driver responsible for it on his hospital bed. Her blue eyes look wild and crazy and Klaus wants nothing but to take back his words, tell her that it will be alright, make love to her over and over until they forget what just came out of his lips. But the words are already out–ringing, it seems– in the still air. He turns the handle to shut the shower off and waits, but Caroline had already sped away, and when Klaus returns to their bedroom she’s already covered in casual clothing.

“Get dressed,” she orders, but despite the strength in her voice her lip trembles and her eyes are misty. “We’re calling Mia.”

-

He had only met Mia Bennett a couple times, the first being her third birthday when Caroline finally let him and Bonnie re-acquaint themselves. The child had immediately sensed the danger in him and set his whole right hand on fire, much to Caroline’s horror and Bonnie’s amusement. Luckily, he had his temper in check and he was conveniently standing next to a water fountain, so he merely ducked his burning hand and gave a sharp smile to the mother-daughter witch duo.

Klaus knows she’s a formidable witch, being of the Bennett line and having been trained by Bonnie herself growing up, but the girl had never really warmed up to him over the years. Perhaps it’s her mother’s influence, but she looks at him like he murdered her puppy every single time they see each other. She adores her Aunt Caroline, of course, but really who doesn’t adore Caroline?

Still, Klaus is filled with a small relief when he sees Caroline’s car pull up in their driveway, having picked up the Bennett witch from the airport. He goes out to greet them and get the small carry-on luggage from the trunk, but Caroline speeds to stop him.

“No carrying heavy things,” she admonishes with a frown before taking the suitcase herself with ease. “Come on Mia, let’s get you settled in.”

Mia throws him an amused look as she passes him that looked far too similar with Bonnie’s that it made him roll his eyes. “I do still have my strength, love.”

“I’m not taking any chances!” Caroline calls out from inside, and despite the circumstances Klaus allows himself a genuine smile.

-

Klaus is not fond of rituals–has never been, to be perfectly honest, although the one breaking his hybrid curse was his favorite, he must admit. Still, lying on the ground in his living room inside a pentagram surrounded by candles with the furniture Caroline had hand-picked moved carelessly to the sides and the authentic Italian rug he personally stole in the 40s sullied with salt is not his ideal place to be.

He is less fonder still of the Latin chants leaving Mia Bennett’s mouth with her eyes closed, palms outstretched and running over his figure every now and again. Caroline watches on one side with her lips bitten in worry and her arms around herself, and Klaus wishes more than ever to pull her against him to calm her down.

Suddenly, the candles flicker out all at once, and Mia finally opens her eyes.

She doesn’t look at him when she does, eyes going straight to Caroline’s expectant ones. “It’s not good.”

“What is it?” It’s him that asks, standing up from the ground and dusting off his pants and shirt. “Tell us.”

“You’re under a spell,” Mia starts with a worried look. “It’s powerful and ancient–strong enough that I could sense the magic even without all this.” She gestures to the pentagram and candles.

Caroline walks forward until she’s leaning against him. “A spell? How? When was this even casted?”

He could practically feel his brain working, connecting all the dots that he tried to avoid connecting the past few days.

“Last week,” Klaus declares, barely concealing a wince at Caroline’s accusing glare. “I was rescuing Hope from an unknown coven in Colorado. They kidnapped her. I interrupted what looked to be a ritual and one of them sent a blast of magic towards me, knocked me to the wall. I…I was suspecting that to have been the cause, myself.”

“And you didn’t tell me this why?” Caroline demanded, but there’s a shakiness to her tone, a tremble in her chin, and Klaus knows she’s afraid–she’s so afraid–so he doesn’t let himself show that he wants to tremble, too.

Instead he sighs, lifting a hand to massage his temples. “I told you, love. I didn’t want to assume things and worry you without making sure my assumptions were correct, then.”

Caroline held his glance for a beat too long before facing Mia. “What can we do?”

The witch in question bites her lip contemplatively. “I have to check my mom’s other grimoirs first just to cover all the bases. The good news is that he’s not dying.”

They’re barely given time for a sigh of relief before Mia continues in a more sympathetic tone. “Caroline, the spell–it’s like a drawn out desiccation spell. It’s moving from the tips of his body towards his heart, slowly draining him. It’s like…It’s like he’s fading.”

Caroline surprisingly takes it all in stride, nodding along like she’s tucking away the words for later and choosing a more methodical approach. Klaus stays silent, going over his thousand years of experience to try and remember if he had witnessed something similar before. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“That’s the thing–it’s like a desiccation spell, only it’s not.” Mia elaborates. His eyes are drawn to the way her fingers fidget against the edges of her sweater, nerves humming throughout her body.

“Mia,” Caroline’s voice takes a hard tone, stepping closer to him. Klaus wraps his arm around her instinctively–some misguided form of protection or something else, he’s not sure. “What is it?”

This time the young witch turns to him. “I don’t think this spell can be easily solved with a gulp of blood to counter the desiccation. Like I said, it’s strong and deliberate and I highly doubt it’s been casted on accident. This was planned. Someone wanted you to save your daughter that day so they can curse you with this.”

“Out with it, witch,” Klaus grumbles, not liking the way Caroline seemed to appear smaller with each word that comes from Mia’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Mia starts, and it’s all he needs to know what she’s about to say. He tugs Caroline closer still, to make the words slightly easier to hear. “With the rate the spell is moving, I’ll give you a month max. And once the spell reaches your heart, you’ll desiccate. For good.”

Caroline collapses to the floor.

-

“How about that coven from Peru? They like me well enough, have you tried calling their coven leader?” Caroline asks, pacing back and forth in front of where he’s sitting on the edge of their bed. “I’m sure they’d be willing to help. Oh god, I need to call Hope, and Rebekah, and Elijah–“

“Careful love,” Klaus tries for a teasing tone. “You’ll ruin our rug if you keep this up.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Caroline halts to a stop in front of him, looking unabashedly broken, tears spilling from her already red eyes, and it’s enough to get him to tug her towards him until she’s sitting on his lap and crying into his neck. “It’s so unfair.”

“I know,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out her cries. Even after all these years, Caroline still feels her emotions so openly. She’s still every bit as full of light and strong and raw as the girl he had fallen in love with when he was but a monster and she was but a means to an end.

Klaus lets himself ponder the reality of the situation, the idea that he may not have as long a time as he had pictured with Caroline back when he didn’t know any better. He’s surprised to note that he does not feel the usual stirrings of dread and panic in his stomach this time. Klaus–he has spent the better part of a thousand years on the run from his father, on the run for his own survival, and it’s with a heavy breath that he realizes that he’s long since accepted his fate. He knows that Caroline will recover from this, knows that she will take this on the way she did every obstacle that came her way. Klaus is certain that she will take care of herself, of Hope, and that Rebekah and Elijah will keep all of them safe.

If he goes now, he’ll go having had everything he’s ever wanted–a family, his own heir and legacy, the love of his life right by his side. If he goes now, he’ll go happy. And isn’t that what everyone truly wants anyway?

“Is that it then?” Caroline sniffs through her tears, voice croaked from crying. “Twenty years? That’s all we’re going to have? What about eternity? What about being my last?”

Klaus pulls back enough to cup her face with both hands and makes her look at him directly, eyes resolved. “A century, a year, twenty years, a day–I’d make them all my eternity if it means I’d get to have you, Caroline.”

Caroline pulls him for a desperate kiss, and they stay like that all night, clutching at each other, crying, cursing their luck and thanking it all at once for ever giving them one another in the first place.

-

Klaus dreams yet again the next night.

This time he’s watching as Rebekah and Kol take turns aiding their mother in her magic, practicing their own with respective candles placed in front of them. Kol beats Bekah this time, making his candle light up with a tall flame and turning to look at Klaus expectantly with a smug smile.

Klaus tips his head in acknowledgement, grinning proudly and trying to ignore the tug of envy he feels at the sight of his siblings honing their gift.

Later, when Kol and Rebekah race out the house at the sound of Mikael, Elijah and Finn arriving from their hunt, Klaus approaches Esther with a small frown.

“Why do I not have magic, mother?” He asks, eyes still trained on the lit candle that his brother left.

Esther stares at him for a few seconds too long before nudging his arm with a small smile. “We all have a little magic in us, Niklaus.”

Klaus wakes gasping.

-

It’s Hope who arrives first. Even without his usual supernatural hearing, he could make out her sobs as Caroline greets her at the door, voice muffling through a more thorough explanation than what the blonde had given her over the phone. By the time he makes it down stairs, the two girls are both crying, holding each other tight in the couch that Caroline had bought from a popular interior designer’s personal collection in Belgium.

Hope stands abruptly upon seeing him, not giving him a chance to brace himself before throwing herself at him. Klaus could do nothing about her tears, though, so he just hugs her tighter, eyes locked onto Caroline’s glass ones across the room the whole time.

“Did you bring your whole apartment with you?” He asks once they pull away, gesturing to the abundance of suitcases that line one of the living room walls.

“I won’t be leaving anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking,” Hope tells him with a raised chin.

Klaus lifts his arms up in defense, a smile tugging at the ends of his lips at the sight of his ever-defiant daughter. He’s sure Caroline has something to do with that as well over the years. Still, he can’t help but tease. “No?”

“Everything else can wait, dad.” Hope tells him, softer this time. “Besides, we have so much painting to do! I think I’m out of practice so go easy on me, alright?”

Caroline nods at him in encouragement. “I’ll get your stuff to your room, Hope. Try not to let him get too immersed in his works, will you? We don’t want him spending the whole decade in his studio.”

Klaus narrows his eyes at her while Hope giggles appropriately at the light jab. “Of course. Thanks, Caroline!”

The next day sees Klaus drinking whiskey alone in the kitchen, the afternoon sun warm and melting the ice in his glass. He watches the accumulated moisture run down one by one, racing against each other and fading into nothing once they reach the end. Sometimes he feels as insignificant as a droplet on an iced glass, catapulting restlessly onto his end. How does one say goodbye to a thousand years in just a month? Sometimes he wishes his millennia worth of knowledge could give him the answer.

Caroline and Hope are in the living room looking up online shops for stylish frames they could put his and Hope’s paintings in. Caroline has expressed her plan to put up a gallery of some sort for his artworks, but she’s still stuck on the location. Klaus knows she’s putting it off, though, to try and ignore his imminent deadline.

He’s just taking another sip when a gush of wind blows by him and his drink is knocked off his hand and shatters on the hardwood floors, barely giving him time to react when a hand smacks in upside the head.

“Bloody hell,” he curses, hand flying up to make sure he isn’t bleeding. He’s not sure Caroline could take the sight of another unhealed wound.

“Get up, Nik.” Rebekah appears in front of him then, arms crossed over her chest and eyes glaring as if Klaus had offended her personally. “If you’re going to be a desiccated piece of shit in under a month, you might as well look good in your coffin.”

Caroline and Hope flash to where they are, the former already staring daggers at his sister. “What the hell, Bekah? You could have seriously hurt him!”

“Oh get over yourself,” Rebekah rolls her eyes before gesturing to the two girls. “You’re both coming as well.”

“Coming where?” Hope asks with a frown, eyes still darting between the three vampires in mixed apprehension and amusement.

Rebekah sighs as if she’s tired of their company already, and Klaus feels his hands twitch for another drink even before his sister says her next words. “Shopping, obviously.”

-

“I still think the Armani looks better,” Caroline comments, circling his figure as he tries on what seemed like the hundredth suit that day. “The black contrasts his hair perfectly, the cut looks amazing on his shoulders and it’s a classic.”

Rebekah purses her lips in thought. “But this is Dior. And it’s gray, so it breaks all sorts of traditions, which I personally believe to be really fitting.”

“Right, but it’s _Armani_ ,” Caroline argues, tugging the said suit out from the rack and wiggling it for emphasis. “Besides, no one’s going to see him anyway. It’ll be just us. I say let’s go for the classic black.”

“Just because it’s just us doesn’t mean–“

“Stop,” Hope says from the velvet couch she’s sitting in one corner. “Are you really going to argue about dad’s funeral clothes right in front of him?”

Klaus inwardly winces at the sight of his sister and Caroline freeze at his daughter’s words. “Hope.“

“No,” Caroline sighs, reaching to take his hand with a resigned look. It’s a look he doesn’t like to see on her face. “She’s right. I’m sorry. I just–“

Before she can finish her sentence, Rebekah runs out of the shop, destroying the glass door in her wake. The three of them stand in unmitigated silence for a few seconds, looking at the shattered remains, what’s left of the door swaying with harsh squeaks.

“I’ll get her,” Klaus tells his two girls with a sigh, dropping a soft kiss onto Caroline’s lips before following suit.

Klaus finds Rebekah at home of all places, sprawled on the floor surrounded by blood bags and alcohol, blasting pop tunes on the surround sound system. Klaus half-expected to find a dead body somewhere, but remembers that his siblings try to keep the murdering down to a minimum whenever Hope’s around.

“Seriously, sister, it’s not the time for your dramatics,” he admonishes, taking pride in the way the blonde original hisses at his words, the glass she’s holding breaking in her grip. But before he can anger her further, Klaus is surprised to see her chin quiver, tears instantly blurring her vision. “Bekah…”

Rebekah shakes the shards from her hands. “Forty years, I’ve been trying to live my life without you.”

Resigned, Klaus drops to the floor next to her, grabbing the bottle–vodka, this time–for himself and taking a large gulp.

“Sometimes I’m still lost as to how,” Rebekah confesses with a whisper before sobs wrack her frame, hands covering her face. “I should have spent them with you.”

There is a tightness to his throat so unfamiliar it almost starts him. He’s always known he loved his siblings–always and forever, after all–but he also knows he hasn’t exactly showed his affections in conventional ways. Instead of giving them his trust and respect, he locks them in boxes, carters them around like antiques, letting his paranoia poison his love. It took a lot for him to realize his faults, and even now he still doesn’t broach the subject as sensitively as he probably should have. But family is family, and to see his sister break apart at the thought of him leaving does something to Klaus that he doesn’t have enough guts to admit.

“I don’t deserve your tears, Rebekah,” he chides lightly. How many people will cry for him? How much time will it take for the wounds he’d inflict on those he loved to heal? It’s just like him, to cause pain and grief even in his death. “If it means that much to you, I know you were only arguing with Caroline to piss her off. You love Armani.”

“I don’t care about the fucking suits, Nik,” Rebekah snaps, sniffing to herself.

Klaus merely hands her back the bottle, and they pass it around the two of them while waiting for Caroline and Hope to get home. Elijah arrives the same night, a bottle of Caroline’s favorite champagne in hand. His older brother only pats him on the back twice, their eyes meeting in a silent conversation before nodding at each other.

They’re gathered around his study, finishing up Elijah’s champagne with Caroline perched on Klaus’ lap, Rebekah and Hope huddled close on the small leather couch and Elijah leaning against one of the walls, opting for brandy instead. Hope is just finishing a tale about her recent trip to South Africa when everyone snaps up, the sound of a slurred voice yelling followed by something shattering alerting even Klaus.

“It’s Kol,” Rebekah announces, head tipped to the window, no doubt listening outside. “The moron’s drunk.”

Klaus bites back a groan. “Who called him?”

“I did,” Hope admits with a slightly guilty wince at the variety of looks she got. “What? We video chat every week.”

With a sigh, Klaus taps Caroline on the waist to get her to stand up. “Come on, then. Let’s see what our dear brother is on about.”

Kol has already shattered a window by the living room by the time they arrived downstairs. Caroline curses under her breath, and Klaus is certain the only thing that stopped her from fetching a broom to clean the mess up is the thought of making the youngest male Mikaelson do the said fetching of the broom and cleaning of the mess.

“Come out, come out, Nik!” Kol singsongs from outside just as Elijah opens the front door wearing his signature disapproving expression. “You aren’t the brother I was looking for.”

Klaus steps forward as well despite Caroline’s protest, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning casually against the doorframe. “Are you actually drunk or is this just for show?”

“Fuck you,” Kol seethes, pointing a bottle of rum towards him. “How fucking dare you?”

From behind him, Caroline and Rebekah have their arms wrapped around Hope, away from their view and trying to stifle their sobs, knowing what’s to come. Caroline keeps her eyes on Klaus, trying to see what the hybrid is going to do.

“If it’s not taking away centuries from our lives, it’s leaving us behind.” Kol continues, anger emanating from his voice and accompanying the tears dropping down his face. “Well guess what, arsehole? You don’t get to die until I say so. You don’t get to leave us until you’ve paid for everything that you took away!”

Klaus knows anger. It’s an emotion so familiar he can almost taste it at the tip of his tongue. Before Hope and Caroline it’s been his default expression, knowing that no one could deem him weak if all he showed is his rage. Out of all his siblings, Rebekah probably comes close second to having the worse temper. Klaus knows how to deal with her, has learned it over the last couple of centuries. He takes away her lover, she does something in retaliation that would make him mad enough to dagger her for a few. She gets back from her rest, Klaus buys her something fancy and say a few words he knows would get to her and she’d forgive him.

With Elijah it’s almost worst. He’s rarely close enough to subdue with a dagger, and sometimes Klaus himself won’t entertain the idea if only for the fact that he knows he’d be lost without Elijah. They fight, Klaus will say a lot of things he knows would strike his brother where it hurts the most, and Elijah will leave for a few years. He never doubts that Elijah’s there, though; the older Mikaelson makes his disappointment known but he’s always been there for Klaus. Sometimes he thinks that’s what makes him hesitate whenever things get rough enough that he finds himself unsheathing his daggers–the thought that he wouldn’t have Elijah to keep him in line and look over him.

Kol is a different case altogether. They never really got along outside their common flare for slaughter. Kol is brash where Klaus would like to believe himself classy, irresponsible where he is weighed down by the responsibility of keeping his family safe no matter how unconventional. Facing Kol’s anger is almost a welcome change to Caroline, Hope and Rebekah’s distress and Elijah’s calmness. Kol’s anger he knows how to handle. But his tears–now that’s something Klaus never thought he’d have to face.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Kol growls out, throwing another bottle at him that Elijah easily swipes out of the way with a tired sigh.

Klaus looks back at where Caroline’s standing, knowing she would be looking at him. They don’t say anything, letting their eyes do the talking, and finally he nods before turning back towards Kol. “What do you want me to say, Kol?”

The younger lad bristles at his nonchalant tone, and Klaus knows what’s about to happen before it does. He sees the way Kol digs his feet at the soil before he launches himself at him full speed, hears Caroline’s breath hitch in alarm. Before he could get to Klaus, though, Elijah steps in front of him and snaps his neck, catching Kol’s body before it lands on the floor.

They’re silent for a few telling seconds, enough for Elijah to dispose of Kol’s body on the couch.

“Dad–“ Hope starts, but Klaus holds up his hand to stop her. He doesn’t appreciate someone else protecting him, feels it makes him even weaker than he already is, but he doesn’t say anything, opting to retreat to his and Caroline’s room in silence.

Caroline finds him looking out the window, shirtless, a glass of brandy in hand. He looks at her, and suddenly she’s breaking down all over again, hugging him tightly, never wanting to let go, trying to brand each crevice of his skin to mind, memorizing his taste, the way he hums against her lips, everything.

“I’m going to fix this,” she promises when they’re done. “I have to. I’ll die if I don’t.”

Klaus tries to look for insincerity in her eyes and finds only pain and desperation. He doesn’t know what to think of that–having someone so determined to make sure he stays alive. For so long it’s been day after day of defeating people trying to kill him and his family. “We’ve already exhausted our contacts, love. Don’t you think I would have said something, had I known there was a way to fix this? I am a loophole, Caroline. No one has heard of this happening before. No one’s been like me before.”

Caroline’s face crumples up, presses it face against the crook of his neck to muffle her sobs. “I can’t. I can’t. Please.”

“You’re strong, love.” Klaus reminds her in a whisper, letting his lips linger against her skin so that even when his sense of smell fails him, he’d know his scent would stay with her. “When I’m gone, I’ve no doubt you’ll come out of this stronger. I know you will live your life, take care of Hope and have her take care of you. I have nothing to worry about, really.”

Caroline cries harder, pushing her body closer against his until there’s no more space left. “Don’t leave me. I _can’t_.”

“Shh. Let’s sleep now, shall we?” Klaus says. “You’re going to be alright, sweetheart. I know it because I know you, Caroline, and even my darkness won’t be able to dim your light.”

-

The month ends much sooner than they anticipated, the days flying by as everyone attempts to find help and spend as much time with Klaus as possible. Caroline dedicates her mornings calling every witch and warlock in their contacts, bribing with everything from money to properties to hybrid and trybrid blood and even her priceless diamond tiara that Klaus had given her for their fifth anniversary. Klaus never stays within the room to hear her phone calls, doesn’t let himself hear the desperation in her voice and see her red-rimmed eyes. They both know she cries every single time.

Instead he busies himself making unnecessary breakfast for the family, perfects the perfect blend of coffee and blood. Hope and Rebekah ask for pancakes every single day, Caroline bacon, eggs, and toast with avocado, Elijah content with just a cuppa while Kol pretends to having been dragged to the table against his will. In the end he’s the one who eats the most out of all of them.

In the afternoons, Klaus and Hope take it upon themselves to teach Rebekah and Caroline how to paint. They start simple, using cheap sketchpads and graphite pencils to practice their sketching first. Klaus teaches them how to draw figures and anatomy because that’s what he knows best–Rebekah sucks, Caroline not that far behind–and Hope helps them with still life. Caroline doesn’t get why she has to imagine where the light is placed before shading the drawings but she doesn’t voice her thoughts out. Klaus already knows anyway, judging by how he smirks at her every time she huffs a breath in frustration or frown her lips in confusion.

They progress to basic painting the next week. None of them except for the father-daughter duo are naturally gifted, but they do it anyway, even if Rebekah complains about paint stains on her designer clothes every time and Caroline had to stop minding her manicure. They commit every word that comes from Klaus’ mouth to memory, even if they don’t make any sense. Caroline listens to the unnecessary art history lessons, takes note of the artists that Klaus would talk endlessly about and the ones he tries hard to discuss without any biases–he fails anyways. Midway through the second week Kol joins them.

Dinner, they keep to themselves. Rebekah would always dress up and go out to god only knows where, same with Kol. Elijah often accompanies his younger brother to keep him in check (he tried once with Rebekah but she made it clear that dinner is her time to relieve her stresses–Elijah’s blush lasted a whole day after that). Sometimes Hope would join Klaus and Caroline whenever they decide to dine in the house. Caroline likes to try out different recipes and dishes once and a while. More often than not, though, Klaus and Caroline opt for not having dinner at all. They go to the gardens or walk around the woods, just talking. It’s Caroline’s time to absorb every single little thing about the hybrid, seal it in her mind so she’d never forget. That’s what scares her the most, she tells him one night–when she says something stupid that makes him laugh and presses her back into the bark of a tree to kiss her languidly–forgetting.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures her, kisses her again to emphasize his words.

After dinner Caroline retreats to their room, have a shower to wash off her sweat. Klaus goes to his study to drink with Elijah–none of them know what they always talk about, but– “Nik’s probably finalizing his will, letting Elijah know about all his properties and assets and the like,” Kol comments offhandedly once. They all decide they can’t bear to hear whatever it is given Kol’s correct in his assumptions.

Klaus always returns to their bedroom before it hits midnight. He takes a quick shower and go to bed topless. They don’t always make love. Sometimes they just hold each other, and sometimes that feels more devastating and intimate. It’s those nights that Caroline truly cannot comprehend how she’s going to survive eternity without him. All her life she’s been strong and independent, in control of her own immortal life. Even her mother’s death did not deter her, only delayed her for a few moments. Stefan, she barely thinks of, knowing in herself that while she may have loved him, she loves stronger now. There was a time she still carried his name, still wore their wedding rings on a chain around her neck. Like everything else it’s merely a blip in her otherwise sunny existence, and when she wakes one day and finds the weight of the rings suffocating and his name unfitting, Caroline lets herself smile as she throws them out.

Now she finds herself entertaining the idea that maybe everyone else had been right, all those years ago. Maybe Klaus really will be the one to ruin her, stomp out her light. Sometimes she thinks it doesn’t sound so bad. And Klaus, he always knows whenever she’s plagued with those kinds of thoughts. He always kisses her more insistently; hug her more tightly until she’s branded on his hybrid bones.

“I love you, Caroline,” he’d tell her. She would cry because it hurts to think that in a few weeks she’ll no longer hear him say the words ever again, but she’d always say it back.

“I love you, Klaus,” she’d whisper, and they would sleep soundly for the rest of the night, their steady breaths blending with the sound of burning sage in a strange melody.

Kol finally gives in and requests for sweetened ham and a complicated omelet for breakfast by Wednesday. On the third week, Klaus starts to sleep in.

-

Elijah tries to take over with breakfast, but Klaus’ imminent death presses too harshly on everyone else’s minds and soon no one else even bothers. Their other routines continue, Kol making more of a mess than art during their lessons, but they all know the two brothers still haven’t talked one on one.

The last week rolls on, and Rebekah’s back to shopping for suits, Kol to hard liquor, Hope to crying every thirty minutes, Elijah disappearing longer and longer and Caroline, calling back every single witch and warlock she had already spoken to. Desperate times, she’d try to joke. No one laughs.

The night before the end, Klaus is assaulted with a final dream.

It starts out normally, with Caroline shifting in his arms and peppering kisses over his jaw while he slept. When he opens his eyes she’s gone, and instead Klaus is tied to a tree, his mother chanting profusely in front of him while Mikael, Finn, and Elijah held him back. There’s blood running down Esther’s nose but the glint in her eyes tells him she’s going to see through the spell no matter the cost. He feels his wolf become subdued inside of him, locked away for the coming millennia, and he feel the devastation of losing a part of himself all over again. He lets out a final roar, only Esther does not stop chanting.

Strange. He’s never heard the things she’s saying before, no matter how many times he goes over the memory in his head. Everything always stops after he roars his final roar.

Klaus starts to talk, muffled even to his own ears, but before he can make out the words the image is shifting again.

This time he’s in the cave in Colorado where he had rescued Hope all those weeks ago. He sees his daughter from far away, his hybrid senses sharp and alert. But he hears the witches, too, preparing it seems to subject his daughter to a ritual. The coven chants and Klaus is startled to find himself familiar with the words–how is he only realizing now? After all, they’re the very same ones his own mother had chanted when she locked his parts away.

“Hope!” He hears himself shout in warning before he’s hit with a spell in the chest, burning a hole through his shirt.

Kol is gone when he wakes.

He left before dawn, Hope tells them in tears. He won’t be around to watch Klaus die, or so he said. Elijah wants to follow after him, make him stay for the wake, but Klaus stops him. “Let him be, brother.” And that was it.

They wait in the garden, everyone in black except for him. Rebekah wins against Caroline and makes him wear the blue Dior suit. Hope is holding a box of tissues that’s already half-empty, and Elijah is frowning more deeply than usual. Klaus thinks they look almost comical if he didn’t know the circumstances. He doesn’t fail to tell Caroline how ravishing she looks, but her face crumples up at his words so he stops trying to tease her. He’s surprised she hasn’t started breaking yet, but he’s also thankful. It’s not the last image he wants to see.

Klaus hugs them one by one. Rebekah rumples his jacket and wets it with her tears, but their embrace is brief. Hope clings to him like she’s but a child once more. Klaus kisses her hair and tells her to continue painting, so that one day she might replace his masterpiece at the Hermitage with her very own. His daughter cries harder, clings harder, and Klaus lets her. He stops in front of Elijah and expects his older brother to pat him on the shoulder the way he usually does, but Elijah pulls him in for a quick hug as well.

“You’ll take care of them,” Klaus says more than asks, and Elijah nods at him determinedly.

“Just as you took care of us, brother,” the older Mikaelson promises. “I shall do my best.”

He is winded by the time he reaches Caroline. She doesn’t cry this time, and it concerns him too much that he had to speak. “Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart. You’ve still got an eternity to go.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she retorts, for old times’ sake, and Klaus is uncertain what to make of her pale face and red eyes. Still, he pulls her in for a kiss, cupping her jaw, lips gliding over her own, tongue seeking something he hasn’t had the time to find out what. He feels his heart beat pick up but isn’t sure if it’s because of her or because he’s starting to fade. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s spilling all his apologies into his kiss, trying to say sorry for all the promises he was too weak to fulfill. He hopes one day Caroline can forgive him.

“I love you, Caroline,” he tells her earnestly, letting his thumbs run over the smooth planes of her cheekbones. “Always and forever.”

The full moon beams high against the dark night sky, gleaming, mocking him. He can feel its pull on his wolf, and only when he feels the tendrils of life leaving his body from his fingertips does he feel the immense regret he buried so artfully underneath his skin. The life he’s longed to live before he even knew it, painting immortal pictures with Hope, the mural they did in Belgium when she first turned, Rebekah’s screech whenever she gets annoyed or embarrassed, Elijah’s subtle advices that weren’t subtle at all, picking fights with Kol, the morning kisses and making love with Caroline, the sleepless nights plagued with a thousand years worth of memories remedied only by watching her sleep against his skin, everything.

“I love you. I’ll never forget you.” Caroline tells him with tears in her eyes, and it’s the last thing he sees before darkness claims him.

-

Elijah catches Klaus’ body before it falls to the ground, trying and failing not to flinch at the feel of his brother’s desiccated skin. Rebekah and Hope are already clutching each other, wrecked with sobs, while Caroline’s eyes remain locked on Klaus’ unmoving face.

“The flowers aren’t here yet,” she says blankly, barely paying mind to the lone tear that falls down her face. “I’m going to call the shop. They should have been here hours ago.”

No one stops her when she flashes away.

Kol appears not ten minutes later, hair disheveled and gasping.

“I thought you were already in Sicily?” Elijah questions, but Kol remains frozen at the sight of his brother, the one he never really got along with but whom he is most alike, the brother who had taken so much from him and yet still had the gull to take residence over his cold, original heart, the brother he tried and failed not to love.

“I ran all the way back,” he mumbles, finally letting his emotions out tear by falling tear. “I was hoping I’d still have time to talk to him.”

Hope escapes from Rebekah’s arms to run straight into his just as Kol collapses on the ground.

“I was too late.” Kol looks to Elijah for assurance, for strength, for something, finds it’s not enough. “I was too late.”

-

It’s when she finally slips off her black dress that Caroline lets herself break.

She drops to the hardwood floors of their bedroom (is it just her bedroom now?), kicks off her heels and screams. Sage is burning by the door, concealing her suffering from prying ears, but instead of comforting her it only brings her more agony. She’s never felt pain like this before. She spent the better part of her life losing people she loved that she feels like she’s supposed to be used to it by now. She’s no stranger to grief, and yet she feels like she won’t be able to stand up from where she’s crumpled on the floor.

There’s a shirt Klaus left on the couch to her right, the one he was wearing before he changed into his suit, and Caroline reaches for it, lets her hands caress the soft cotton and immerse her senses into his scent. She’s afraid to slip it over her head in fear of tainting the clothing with her own fragrance, but she wears it on anyway, so she feels the closest thing to his arms around her body.

She’s supposed to be stronger now. She lost her parents so young, lost so many friends to time, lost her first husband, lost even her own daughter. She’s supposed to know better now. Except Klaus is the one she never really thought would leave. He’s the only thing she believed would stand the test of time, Klaus with his dimpled smile and drawings and kisses that feel like bathing in the most luxurious of wines, Klaus who would outlive everyone. When she finally admitted to herself that she’s in love with him, it’s paired with the acceptance that he is what her eternity will look like. He is the last.

And now he’s gone, and the pain he left her so unimaginable she thinks she’d rather desiccate where she’s seated than continue on without him. It’s a thought that would have driven him mad with rage, and it’s enough for Caroline to chuckle through her sobs. Hope and everyone else would understand, surely? Sometimes it’s tiring being strong for everyone else.

“If only you didn’t believe in me so much,” she whispers to the air, remembering Klaus and his sure voice telling her she will be alright because she’s Caroline and she’s _full of light_. Doesn’t he know? Doesn’t he know that he with his so-called darkness, dimpled smiles and kisses that feel like bathing in the most luxurious of wines has become her light?

Caroline closes her eyes, traces her lips where it’s still tingling from his kiss, nods to herself in painful acceptance.

He is the last.

-

They put him in the living room, surrounded by flowers and unlit scented candles of Caroline’s choosing, his casket open and his arms crossed in front of the other peacefully. Elijah took Rebekah and Hope to their rooms to calm them down, leaving Kol sitting in one of the accent chairs in the corner, face in his hands as he tries to comprehend their loss. In his mind he’s trying to bet on how long it would take before Elijah breaks as well. It’s only a matter of time.

He hears a pained cry coming from Caroline’s room. Her sage must have burned out. Another thud, and Kol stands long enough to snatch a bottle of scotch from the closest alcohol tray before sitting back down, tossing the cap somewhere to his back and gulping the drink down, letting the burn in his throat distract him from the one in his eyes.

-

Klaus wakes with a gasp.

He’s inside a coffin, donning the same Dior suit Rebekah had forced him to wear despite Caroline’s arguments for Armani, and the first thing that registers in his mind is the scent of flowers assaulting his senses. The second thing is, well, he’s bloody alive.

He flexes his fingers, ears perking up at all the things he could hear, heartbeat slowing to its normal rate. The only person there with him is Kol who stares at him open-mouthed for more than a minute before dropping the bottle he’s holding to the floor and shouting, “Fucking hell, Nik!”

He winces at the volume, hears the way all the people in the house seemed to halt their actions upon hearing Kol’s words.

Everyone flashes to the room in an instant, but he’s quicker in the way he hasn’t been the last few weeks. When they arrive, he’s standing in front of his own casket, eyes yellow, double fangs protruding from his lips, breathing deeply but this time it’s not in an attempt to catch his breath after a tiring task, no, it’s just from pure disbelief.

“Dad?” Hope breaks the tense silence, already crying. She moves to hug him but he lifts a hand, halting her actions.

His eyes meet Caroline, and her face is filled to the brim with disbelief, fear and unmistakable hope.

“Tell me this is real,” she whispers, but he hears her clearly, even clearer than he ever did before if possible.

“I should be dead,” is all he says before Caroline flashes to him, all tears and desperate kisses and fingers tangling at the nape of his neck.

He grips her against his body harshly, and it’s then that he releases a breath of relief into her mouth, knowing they both thought they wouldn’t be able to feel each other ever again.

“I don’t understand,” she cries against his lips, pressing closer. “But I don’t care. I love you. God, I thought–“

“I know,” Klaus agrees, biting down her bottom lip briefly before kissing her again. It takes him much longer to pull away and look to his family who all still stare in disbelief, only this time their eyes aren’t directed towards him, but in different areas of the room.

“What?” He takes a step back from Caroline but keeps an arm around her waist, knowing it would be a while before she can be without his touch after all that has happened. Finally, he glances around, first not noticing anything, before it dawned on him.

All the candles scattered about, once all dead when he awoke, are now bright with flames.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> so for anyone confused:  
> klaus had been a siphoner when he was human and esther locked that away along with his wolf side after he turned. the coven of witches unlocked his witch side for reasons and klaus is now a trybrid i guess lol. i got the idea from teen wolf season 4 when derek was losing his powers and they all thought he was gonna die (spoiler) but it turns out he was just ?evolving? somehow lmao idk dont sue me.
> 
> also please feel free to give feedbacks! really helps with my writer's block :)))


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